


loving would be easy if your colours were like my dream

by albion



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant, Drabbles, Gen, M/M, jeaneren week 2014, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albion/pseuds/albion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seven day celebration of Eren/Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. california dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> erejean week falls on the absolute WORST week of this semester for me, but because it's erejean, how can i resist?
> 
> but because of that, these are all short pieces.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something about this boy.

**california dreaming** ; day one: _flirting_

.

He sits on one of the stools, face pressed against the counter and drumming his fingers against the clear plastic top. There’s a faint water stain near his left eye, and past that several bottles: ketchup, barbecue, chili sauce, lemon juice, and something that smells spicy but he’s not sure entirely what it is. He’s also not too keen on covering his rice with it to find out, either.

The boy appears from behind the drinks machine and holds out the paper cup, half full with the coke Jean ordered. Jean looks at him.

“I ordered a coke.”

“Yeah. And here it is.”

“That’s like, half full. You had a swig of it or what?”

“Tch, don’t flatter yourself. You wish.”

Jean raises an eyebrow and pushes himself off the counter. “I wish? Why would I wish for your germs over my drink? I meant you’re probably an awful employee, drinking the customer’s drinks, eating half the orders before they’re even out from the kitchen—”

“You’re dumb. I would have been fired ages ago if I did that. Maybe that’s what you want. But good luck on trying, anyway. My uncle’s the owner, so…” the boy trails off, and crosses his arms.

Jean doesn’t reply, but takes the coke and swallows a mouthful, picking up his chopsticks and sticking them in the sauce drenched rice. He doesn’t come here for the quality of the food. The meat is too greasy, the rice a bit too old, the vegetables overdone. But this boy. There’s something about this boy.

He’s still staring at him, as if waiting for approval. Jean stops chewing and holds out his chopsticks. There’s a long pause. He can see the boy’s green eyes flicking up and down from the Styrofoam plate and the pile of cheap takeout Chinese and Jean’s eyes.

The boy takes the chopsticks. Picks up one tiny piece of sweet and sour pork from Jean’s plate, and puts it into his mouth. He chews, then makes a face that, when Jean notices, vanishes instantly. Jean smirks.

“So, what’s your name?” Jean asks finally, once the boy has carefully set the chopsticks back down again.

The boy looks at him. “Eren,” he says. “And you?”

“Jean.”

Eren picks up a wet cloth from behind the counter and begins cleaning the plastic, forcing Jean to pick up his cup and plate to avoid Eren’s scrubbing with the rag. Jean continues eating.

“So, Jean, why do you keep coming here anyway? The food’s not great. Trust me, I know. I help cook it. And yet I’ve seen you around for at least a month, ever since the summer started. Ever since I started.”

Jean takes a leap of faith. “Why do you think?”

Eren finishes polishing and drops the cloth casually into the sink, before reaching over the counter. He plucks the paper cup from Jean’s hand, draining the rest of the dark liquid. Then he holds it out again.

“Want another? On the house.”

“Only if you’ll fill it properly this time, and maybe I won’t complain to your boss.”

Eren grins.


	2. american pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shut up Eren,” he whispers, and leans in to kiss him again.

**american pie** ; day two: _pranking_

.

Eren sits at the window and stares outside at the bright green grass. It’s the hottest day of the year so far, the sun positively blinding and the light reflecting painfully off the brilliant white pavements. He can hear the sounds of the birds singing faintly outside, but in the hall however, the light is dim and the only noise is the ancient stereo softly playing the notes of the cd he'd reluctantly put on.

Everyone was supposed to be here hours ago.

Then the door bangs open, and Jean appears, out of breath and clutching at his shirt, drenched in sweat.

“Am I late?” he gasps. “I didn’t want to--” he looks around, and trails off.

Eren sighs and pushes himself off the windowsill. “Well see, you’re not late. You’re not late at all. But everyone else seems to be.”

Jean looks around in confusion. “Everyone else? Your text said you wanted to talk to me about something important. In private. I--”

He pulls out his phone and Eren snatches it from his hand.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “I am going to _kill_ Ymir.”

“What?”

“She told _you_ that I had something important to tell you? She told _me_ this morning that everyone was going to meet down at the town hall for your early birthday celebration. I’m--”

“Early birthday?”

“Well yes you idiot,” Eren mutters, pushing at Jean’s chest. “Why else do you think I went to all the trouble of stringing up fucking streamers and putting on this fucking old ass music that only _you_ like?”

Jean finally looks around at the party decorations, some of them falling down and lopsided, and sits down on one of the plastic chairs heavily. “Oh man. We’ve both been had.”

“ _You’ve_ been had? I spent a fortune at Safeway today buying fucking birthday shit for you. Paper plates and fucking napkins and balloons and everything! Why don’t you think about how _I_ feel?”

Eren’s standing over him, hands on his hips and his brows furrowed. Jean stands up and glares back just as fiercely, grateful for his added height. Not many people can match Eren in fierceness when he’s pissed, but Jean would really like to think he could try.

“Yeah well! I didn’t fucking _ask_ you to buy all this shit for my birthday, did I? Why would you even go to all the trouble? You’re stupid. You’re so stupid.”

“Because I wanted you to have a nice birthday, you prick!” Eren shoves Jean and Jean kicks back and they go tumbling to the hard wooden floor, Jean with one hand in Eren’s hair and Eren grabbing onto the bottom of Jean’s plaid shirt.

“You’re such a dumb.” Eren hisses. “A real fucking dumb. I can’t believe myself. I can’t believe I’m dating you and can’t fucking believe I’m in love with you—ugh!” Eren’s voice is cut off as Jean pulls his head back by his hair and starts kissing him, open mouthed and hungry.

Jean pulls back and runs his hands over Eren’s waist.

“Shut up Eren,” he whispers, and leans in to kiss him again.

_did you write the book of love_   
_and do you have faith in god above_   
_if the bible tells you so?_   
_now do you believe in rock and roll_   
_can music save your mortal soul_   
_and can you teach me how to dance real slow?_

_we started singin' bye-bye, miss american pie_   
_drove my chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry_   
_them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye_   
_singin' "this'll be the day that i die_   
_this'll be the day that i die"_


	3. the boxer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not in love with you.”  
> “I’m not in love with you either.”  
> “I know. So why don’t you kiss me already?”

**the boxer** ; day three: _denial_

.

There’s an empty space in his chest, a fraction away from his heart, which twinges whenever Eren sits too close to Armin or re-adjusts Mikasa’s scarf so that it hangs straight around her neck. It’s the part of him that watched piles of charred bones turn into ash and stood dumbly outside the wreckage of what was once his house, the place he was born and grew up, laughing with his childhood friends and eating supper with his parents.

Now he understands how Eren feels to have lost a home. But Eren has his sister and his best friend. Marco believed in Jean; the only person who believed in him fully, who gave him the courage to pick up his sword and pretend to be a leader, if only for a day. Now Marco is gone, floating away on the wind.

Jean finishes his dinner silently without tasting any of the extra spices the cooks slipped into the stew once they’d found out how many trainees had lost their lives at Trost. The titans were never supposed to get that far inside. Might as well eat up the expensive stuff while you can. He leaves his bowl on the side with the other dirty dishes, and slips out. He wishes he could get his hands on some cigarettes or some vine. Soldiers aren’t strictly allowed to have such substances, but Jean doubts anyone would really care at this point. He’s seen several members of the survey corps with bottles already, and it’s only his third day here.

He hears the snap of fallen leaves underfoot and turns around half in fright, although he knows full well titans don’t move at night, it’s the one thing that they _do_ know about the goddamn things—

“You alright?”

It’s Eren. Eren Jaeger, the suicidal bastard, who grabbed at his jacket that day and threw him into a wall and yelled at him to trust in himself and to put all those years of training to use.

Maybe it wasn’t Marco.

“...No, Eren. I’m not alright. Did you really think I would be?”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know he had died.”

“I’m not blaming you for being ignorant about that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eren comes to stand beside him against the slightly damp stone, and together they look up at the moon, hanging coldly up in the dark blue sky.

“I’m sorry about your hometown.”

“I’m sorry too. I guess we’re even now, huh?”

“Don’t be like that,” Eren hisses. “You have no _idea_ what it was like.” Jean shuts his mouth instantly. He doesn’t know. Trost is being rebuilt even as he breathes. But what is happening to Shiganshina?

He feels his legs give out from underneath him and slides limply onto the dewy grass, water soaking uncomfortably into the fabric of his pants.

“Come on, Jean.” Eren’s voice is soft beside him. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“How do you know?” Jean mutters bitterly.

Eren crouches down beside him. “I was.”

Jean looks up at Eren from between slightly misty eyes and suddenly feels the inexplicable urge to kiss him, to hold him, to do anything because Eren Jaeger is a fucking titan and tomorrow both of them might be dead and what are two fifteen year old boys supposed to do when they’re ordered to grow up too fast?

He leans in almost subconsciously, and Eren must have guessed his intention because he leans back on his haunches, a slightly confused look on his face.

Jean swallows uncomfortably and tries to ignore the blush that creeps up his cheeks. He’s suddenly glad it’s dark out tonight, and Eren probably can’t see it.

Eren breathes out lightly, and Jean’s eyes must be playing a cruel trick on him because then Eren leans forward again, face just inches from Jean’s own.

“Jean… I-”

“I’m not in love with you.”

“I’m not in love with you either.”

“I know. So why don’t you kiss me already?”


	4. uptown girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren stops staring at Jean’s clothed arms and looks up at his face. He bites his lip gently between his teeth.

**uptown girl** ; day four: _anything you want  
_

.

He wanders around Trost District (or rather what’s _left_ of it), helping out whenever he can, but mostly keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact. It wouldn’t do any good for civilians to recognize him here, not when the view of the general public is that Eren Jaeger may very well still be a threat to all humanity.

He thinks about the glint of steel in Captain Levi’s hands, and shivers slightly, pulling his cloak further around him.

Trost is different from Shiganshina though, being one wall farther in. The streets ( _what’s left of them,_ he reminds himself viciously, _trost isn’t doing so well these days_ ) are cobbled with slightly nicer stone, the streets are a fraction wider, the houses marginally bigger.

He’d never considered before that Jean was richer than him, but now it makes itself almost painfully apparent. He has parents, a little money in an account somewhere, half of a hometown left to go back to—

 _stop that_ , his brain tells him firmly. _he’s just lost so much, we’ve all lost so much, and you’re thinking about how unfair it is that he’s got a tiny bit of money saved up somewhere?_

“What are you doing here Eren?” comes Jean’s unmistakable voice from behind him, and Eren jumps a good two feet into the air.

“Oh sweet Sina, warn a guy would you?”

“Why are you back here?”

“Oh, um. Uh…”

“I can see your brain trying _so hard_ to formulate a lie and it’s really pitiful so I’m just going to tell you now Eren, whatever it is, it’s not going to work. So just tell me the truth.” Jean’s in civilian clothes like Eren, the fabric finer spun, the cloth softer.

Eren stops staring at Jean’s clothed arms and looks up at his face. He bites his lip gently between his teeth.

“Sasha told me,” he admits, “that your favourite bakery as a child was still in operation and they still sell your favourite poppy seed cakes. So I wanted to… to…”

“You were going to buy me a goddamned _cake?_ Whatever for?”

Oh dammit. Might as well just tell him everything.

“I wanted to eat one with you,” Eren blurts out, because he’s always been the worst liar of the entire 104th. “I wanted to eat one with you and I wanted you to show me around, because… well because…”

Jean raises one eyebrow.

“Will you go on a date with me?” Eren practically yells, and half the street stops to stare at him. One girl starts snickering softly a few metres away and Eren shoots her a vicious glare. Then he turns back to Jean, waiting the inevitable laughter from him too, dreading the reply he’s going to get.

“Okay,” Jean says softly, and Eren’s legs nearly buckle from beneath him in relief. “Okay.”

Then suddenly he’s confused.

“What? You’re just agreeing? Like that?”

“You’re so fucking dumb. Yes, I’m agreeing. Just like that.”

“But why? I was so convinced you were going to laugh at me!”

“Do you really think me so callous?” Jean replies, sounding hurt and now Eren feels _really_ low. “Let’s go on a date. No harm in one, is there?”

“O-okay,” Eren says dumbly, and ignores the way his heart flutters as Jean grabs his arm.


	5. chelsea dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are going to enter,” he says with grim resoluteness. “And we are going to compete against The Jaegers. And we are going to _win._ ”

**chelsea dagger** ; day five: _jealously_

.

“What I don’t understand,” Jean mutters bitterly into the strings of his guitar, “is how Eren _fucking_ Jaeger always gets the good gigs and I don’t.”

“Please stop whining already,” says Sasha from behind him, as she twirls a drumstick in one hand. “It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You’re telling me,” Ymir sniffs, coming back through the garage door with a can of coke. “You don’t have to put up with this 24/7. Imagine being his neighbour. Now _I’ve_ got it bad.”

“Oh shut up and let me wail in peace,” Jean replies. “You should all be sad too, The Jaegers always fucking getting the gigs and not us.”

“Yeah, except you’re the only one who really thinks a high school band is going to get anywhere,” comes Connie’s voice cheerfully from the beaten up old couch in the corner. “At least we just see it for what it is, a hilarious distraction.”

“A hilarious distraction? Is that all my dream is to you??”

“Can we all shut up and just play some fucking tunes?” snaps Ymir, and Jean sighs and gets to his feet. He so _desperately_ wants The 104s to finally get recognized, finally get some traction among the youth crowd here, instead of that travesty of a indie rock band that calls themselves The Jaegers, lead by that goddamned Eren _Jaeger—_

“Jean?” says Sasha. Jean turns around. “You keep missing the cue.”

“O-oh,” Jean replies. Ymir rolls her eyes.

“Stop thinking about humping your damn boyfriend and fucking play already!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Jean yells.

“Yeah but you sure wish he was,” Connie pipes up. Jean tries _very hard_ not to imagine strangling him with his own guitar strings. It works. Sort of. “Everyone knows you’ve got the hots for Eren, and you’re just channeling it into frustrated rage that he’s never going to notice a loser like you.”

“I hate you all,” Jean moans.

“No you don’t,” Ymir replies. “You love us.”

“He loves Eren more,” Connie says.

“Hey guys!” Krista shouts, running through the open garage door, brandishing something in her outstretched hand. Jean peers at it. “Guess what I got!”

“Is that a movie ticket?” asks Connie stupidly.

“No you dumb,” says Ymir, putting down her guitar and grabbing Krista around the waist. She gives her a kiss on the cheek and reaches for the thing in her hand.

“Oh my god,” she says gleefully, reading it quickly. “Jean is going to _die._ ”

Jean’s head snaps up. “What?”

“It’s a battle of the bands,” Krista announces far too cheerfully. “The Jaegers vs. anyone who deems themselves worthy enough to compete!”

They all turn to Jean, who has set his guitar down and is trying very hard not to retch onto the floor, bent over and clutching at his jeans. Then he stands up, very slowly, and it’s like a scene in a cheesy Hollywood movie.

“We are going to enter,” he says with grim resoluteness. “And we are going to compete against The Jaegers. And we are going to _win._ ”

“And then you confess to Eren Jaeger and he gives you a pity fuck in the dirty back washroom,” interrupts Ymir. “Or maybe a pity handjob. Or blowjob. Which do you want more, his mouth on your cock or his dick up your ass? Or maybe you’ll be so grateful you’ll beg to suck _his_ cock.”

Jean collapses onto the concrete floor.


	6. fernando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you close up Wall Maria and we defeat the titans,” Jean says, “I am going to carry you down to the ocean and fucking drop you in it. Then you’ll know what it’s like.”

**fernando** ; day six: _touch_

.

“You remember the first time we did this?” Eren asks, looking up at Jean in the inky darkness of the night.

“Yeah,” Jean breathes, hand running through Eren’s soft hair. His head is in Jean’s lap, his left hand clutched in Jean’s own. He’s never felt more at home.

The grass is wet and sticking uncomfortable to Eren’s back as he lays on the grassy hill, but he doesn’t mind, because the stars above him are so bright and clear and beautiful and he could spend years doing this, staring up at the cosmos with Jean.

“I wish we didn’t have to fight,” Jean whispers, as his fingers move to massage behind Eren’s ears and Eren tries very hard not to squirm at the ticklish feeling. “I wish we didn’t have to be soldiers.”

“But think what we’re fighting for,” Eren replies, tilting his head back even farther to properly look Jean in the eyes. “The freedom of humanity.”

“I know,” Jean sighs, and he looks up at the dark blue of the night sky. “But you know what? I feel free here. With you.”

“You don’t mean that,” Eren says gruffly. “We’re not free here. We’re on a hill looking up at the stars trapped inside two walls. Imagine how even more beautiful they’d look if we were on a hill in the middle of nowhere, no titans, no one else. Just us and the rest of the world to explore.”

“You really think it’s going to happen?”

“It’s got to happen,” Eren replies. “Because I refuse to die without seeing the world. You want to see the world too, right?”

“I do,” Jean admits. “I want to see the world with you. And Armin, and Mikasa. And Sasha and Connie and Historia and hell, old Captain Levi can come along too. And the Commander. I want us to all go and see it together.”

“I still want to see the ocean with Armin,” Eren confesses. “I’ve tried so many times to imagine what it’s like, but I can’t. I have no idea what it’s like, and it kills me.”

“When you close up Wall Maria and we defeat the titans,” Jean says, “I am going to carry you down to the ocean and fucking drop you in it. Then you’ll know what it’s like.”

Eren starts laughing and Jean laughs too in response, before bending over and taking Eren’s lips with his own. They kiss slowly, before Jean pulls back and Eren smiles up at him.

“Is that a promise? You’ll carry me down to the ocean and fucking drop me in it?”

“You bet.”


	7. ends of the earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks, somewhat dumbly, that he’d follow that torch to the end of the world. Whatever was out there, he’d follow him. That stupid suicidal bastard. He’d follow him to the end of the world.

**ends of the earth** ; day seven: _celebration_

.

He kneels limply on the muddy ground, swords dropped by his side, chest heaving for breath. The entire left side of his face is covered in blood, some of it seeping into his eye, but he doesn’t care. He watches silently as Eren swings around almost impossibly gracefully on the gear, swords brandished.

He reaches the neck. He strikes. He cuts deeply.

And then the last titan is dead and Jean loses himself, falling headfirst onto the sodden mud and grass, sobbing and hyperventilating.

He remains like that for a few seconds before Mikasa’s arm on his pulls him to his feet and he makes an awful wet choking noise as Eren lands on the ground again, throwing away his swords because what use does he have for them now? Now that they’ve won.

They’ve _won._

“I was so scared,” Jean finds himself saying, even though everyone else is standing around them and this is possibly the most embarrassing thing he’s ever going to do. “I was so scared that we’d be so close, so close, and then something would go wrong. That it would get you. That I— _we_ would lose you.”

Mikasa’s grip around his upper arm tightens painfully, and Jean knows she had been thinking it too.

“I know,” Eren replies. “I’m sorry. I wanted to… I wanted to kill the last one as a human. Not as a titan.”

“Commander Erwin and Captain Levi would be proud,” says Armin beside him. “If they were here.”

“They’re here,” Eren replies fiercely. “They’re here in our hearts. And so is everyone else who gave up their lives. This is all for them.”

He doe the salute and everyone else follows suit, Jean mimicking the actions without even thinking about it. Eren stands there proudly, beautifully, and despite the mud and the drizzling rain and the grim clouds overhead, Jean doesn’t think he’s ever seen a sunnier day. It’s like Eren is the sun, the beacon for everyone to follow.

He thinks, somewhat dumbly, that he’d follow that torch to the end of the world. Whatever was out there, he’d follow him. That stupid suicidal bastard. He’d follow him to the end of the world.

Perhaps now he can.

And then, for some reason he can’t explain to anyone later, Jean does what he’d always told himself he’d never do.

He shakes off Mikasa’s iron grip, he walks straight up to Eren Jaeger, grabs him by the arms, and kisses him.

He hears the gasps from behind him, a scandalized noise he knows could only be Mikasa, and he hears Sasha burst into laughter.

Eren doesn’t respond for a long, awful moment, completely stiff in Jean’s hands, and Jean thinks then that he’s just made the worst mistake of his entire life. He moves to pull back, to apologize—

And then Eren’s kissing him back with that strength and desire that only Eren has, and suddenly Jean’s been pushed onto the ground and Eren is kissing him like they’re the only ones left in the world.

Right now, it feels like they are.

**Author's Note:**

> andddd we're done!  
> Thanks to everyone for reading.


End file.
